


Betrayals

by ScriptrixDraconum



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptrixDraconum/pseuds/ScriptrixDraconum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amet Aeducan should have expected this final betrayal, for what else has life offered her this last year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayals

Amet Aeducan wanted to die.

She should have expected this final betrayal. Bhelen, Gorim, Anora, Morrigan, and now Alistair. And why not? Each of them was selfish in their own way.

Bhelen wanted a kingdom, and he killed for it. Gorim wanted a life of his own, but, honestly, who could blame him?

Anora was a self-preserving monarch, and her selfishness nearly saw Amet and Oghren killed at Fort Drakon. This had hardly been a surprise to Amet – she expected no less from royalty, dwarf or human.

Morrigan – _ancestors_ , what did she want? A demon baby. Was this what their entire relationship had been about? Was this why Morrigan had been so cold to Amet these last few weeks? Because Amet, as a woman, could not impregnate her? The woman’s spitting words were so vile that night. Alistair’s refusal had nothing to do with Amet, and yet it was Amet whom Morrigan blamed, cursed at, and abandoned. The woman was arguably the best fighter amongst their motley crew, and yet she would leave them to the darkspawn over this odd request? Amet fell to the floor in tears as Morrigan fled the room in the form of a fox. She was found crying by Wynne and Leliana, who attempted to console her. As she wept, Amet vowed to take down the archdemon herself, to claim the final blow despite what Riordan had ordered.

When Riordan fell, she knew: the archdemon, and the heroic death, were hers. She looked to the smoke-filled sky and sent a silent prayer to her ancestors. Contentment and a shallow bliss warmed her in that moment. Tears ran down her face as she swore she would return to the stone this night.

And then, Alistair pushed her.

The would-be king pushed his fellow warden aside as she started toward the dragon. She fell awkwardly on her right arm, suffering some minor injury, while Alistair screamed “For Duncan!” and tore King Maric’s sword into the neck of the archdemon.

Wynne and Leliana had rushed to Amet’s side, guarding their friend as they picked off straggling hurlocks. Amet looked on in horror as a bright light enshrouded Alistair and the archdemon. He was stuck, his sword lodged deep into the beast. She shouted at him, for him to let go of the sword, to back away from the light and save himself. The young man’s gaze found Amet, and even at a distance she could see the shock and regret on his face. He had known. He had known! Why had he raised his sword if he knew he would die? Before the light of the archdemon’s soul blinded her, Amet saw Alistair mouth something. She knew what it was, but refused to believe. This was not just another grand gesture from a man who took months to give up on winning her affection, ignoring Amet’s relationship with Morrigan. “Olive juice,” he certainly said.

Foolish man.

 

Amet lay awake that night after the healers had a look at her injuries. Sprained elbow, cuts, bruises, and a broken collar bone. The healers clucked around her, delighted Amet still lived. She was their hero. The name ‘Alistair’ never once crossed their lips.

It was not solely the loss of a friend and fellow Grey Warden that burdened Amet, nor solely the anger of being deprived of her chosen fate, but she knew there would be some that would blame her for Alistair’s death. Anora did not seem to care – understandable, circumstances being what they were. Leliana, however grieved by the death of someone she never fully admitted to loving, did not blame anyone but Alistair himself. She was there. With one eye on the darkspawn and the other on Alistair, she witnessed his actions. But Arl Eamon, his accusatory gaze weighed heavily on Amet, and there would certainly be others with a like mind.

Once alone, Amet continued to cry. She had not yet come to terms with being alive, and alive without a definitive purpose. Hunt and kill darkspawn, yes, but where, and with whom? Who was there left among her kind? Amet felt utterly abandoned by fate, as if the ancestors themselves had turned their backs on her.

 

At some point during the night, Sten came. Wordless, as usual, he laid himself down next to Amet and took her into his arms. What Morrigan had not given Amet lately, Sten had. Morrigan knew; she had claimed not to care. Morrigan did not love Amet, after all – she had said it herself. Amet had not believed the witch’s word at the time, and ostensibly moved on, allowing herself the companionship of Sten, and once, Zevran. What Amet found with these men was not love, no. The only people she ever loved in this way were no longer in love with her. Or, if they were, they had a horrible way of showing it.

“I am glad that you yet live,” were the only words Sten spoke to Amet that night. When she awoke alone in the morning, she wondered if she had only dreamt of his caresses.

 

During the ceremonies following Anora’s coronation and Alistair’s funeral, Zevran had caught Amet’s gaze and recognized the torment she was feeling. Gorim, her first love, had showed up with his wife and newborn child. Sten was not there to offer his silent support. Morrigan had stripped Amet of her solid emotional foundation, leaving her to sink. Without needing to ask, Zevran stealthily maneuvered his way to Amet’s side and grasped her shaking hand. Unflinching, he allowed her to squeeze.

In the end, nearly everyone left. Morrigan disappeared, Sten returned to Seheron, Leliana traveled with the Chantry to Haven, Wynne and Shale journeyed together to Tevinter, Oghren went back to Lake Calenhad to find Felsi, and Alistair… Alistair returned to his Maker.

Only Zevran stayed behind. After the events with the archdemon, being separated and not knowing whether or not it was Amet who had made the killing blow, Zevran renewed his vow, that he would never leave the warden until the day she requested he do so.

During the events at Amaranthine, the Keep, and even traveling far to the west, Zevran remained at Amet’s side. Except, of course, when he was defending her very plump and lovely rear.


End file.
